She huffed and slumped down on her chair, almost ripping her hair into strands. It wasn’t even halfway through the day and Jiyoon was already in a bad mood, thanks to her company’s supervisor.

Screw it, she grumbled, he was never easily pleased anyway.

At the corner of her eye, she saw a rose with a letter attached to it. She may think ‘Who the hell would give me a rose? Blind ,’ but she was curious herself. She grabbed it, and opened the already half folded paper that had the smell of her favourite fruit, strawberry.

You appear to be in a pretty bad mood. Smile more, you look lovelier.

The giver didn’t leave a name or any sign to whoever she or he was. It would probably be a male, for Jiyoon thought her female co-workers were on no occasion to ever be nice. The note wasn’t even handwritten, making it harder for her to find out who it was from.

She’s been receiving a lot of letters before that, and she was slowly falling love with this anonymous letter giver because of his sweet and well-chosen choice of words.

There were hardly any men walking around her office or on her level, leaving her to question herself. Was anyone stalking her? Not that she’s complaining.

The questions in her head gave her annoyance. She decided to go to the small coffee shop she habitually goes to, to get freed from her headache.

She took the weight off her feet on a couch just by the window right after she arrived.  She noticed a couple grinning at each other near the counter. She always wondered how it felt like to be in a relationship. It could be bad, she remembered, just like the boy who suicided because of a shattered heart.

Okay, perchance she knew a thing or two about dating, by means of dating someone before. They really didn’t break up; then again her lover was gone after a car accident. It’s been a few years ever since she last saw him.

Putting aside her reminiscences, she noticed a lean gent sitting in the corner. He was in an ensemble, probably working in the same building as her. His hair was bleached, making her wonder how the hell he got through an employment interview. He looked like the icy and mocking type, but she can never judge someone, or so she supposed.

She stared at his worker’s tag and read his name. Min Yoongi.

Must be from the nation side, she assumed.

It turned awkward when the guy by the name of Yoongi caught her staring at him, making him smile a smug smirk.

Stop that.

She stopped staring at him in order for him to look away and tried to take in the setting outdoors.

On the other hand, Yoongi continued to scroll through his phone’s gallery, smiling at every picture. This is definitely not strange. She, conversely, found it weird, and hassled to get back to her office.

 

She sat down again and stared at the rose, “You’re plastic,” and then the rose fell from the table and landed next to her heel. She grabbed the flower and muttered a quiet, “Offended much?” before positioning it back on her desk. Great, now she was talking to artificial flowers.

 

The clock hit 7 p.m., and it was time for everyone to take their leave. Well, almost everyone.

Jiyoon has yet to fight with the photocopier that refuses to release a piece of paper. She sighed in defeat when she couldn’t obtain it from the stubborn member of machinery, so she left it there to twaddle – okay, to let someone else find a solution.

“Having a bit of trouble there?”

She glanced at the source of the deep, raspy voice. It belonged to the gent she saw earlier, but he was in a different outfit, while drinking his Americano.

“There’s that button over there that can eject papers.” Then she just felt stupid.

“I knew that,” she went back to the photocopier, only to find a lot of buttons, “I just don’t know which one.”

Yoongi chuckled, “It’s the round one.”

“Can you be more specific?”

After probably arguing about which looks most round, Jiyoon found the button, pressing it and grabbed the wretched paper.

“No ‘thank you’?”

“No.”

“Geez, fine.”

Jiyoon laughed at his remark, “I’ll get you coffee or something. You seem to have a thing for Americano.”

“You’ve been stalking me?” he raised a brow, followed by a playful smirk.

“No, jerk. No Americano for you,” she glared at him, “I just came across you and you already left me a bad imprint.”

Yoongi shrugged, “Sorry, sweetheart. That’s how I am.”

“Don’t you dare flirt with me.”

“I don’t know your name.”

“Han Jiyoon, please never bother me while I’m working. I put people after occupation,” she grabbed the last pieces of papers and stood up straight, “personal should stay personal.”

He gave her a look, before shuffling off, “Whatever that means, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He didn’t really leave her a bad impression with that fetching face of his. Meeting him might’ve changed her life.

 

The heck is this?

Apparently, Jiyoon found two roses this time, and a very vague letter.

It was fun.

What was fun? Was it fun to see her suffer after getting rejected by the boss? She doesn’t think so.

She suddenly remembered the incident yesterday, where she met Yoongi when she had trouble. She shook it off. It couldn’t be from him. She thought he was too mean - or not even romantic to begin with, proof from the roses and the first letter – to even send the said stuff.

“Jiyoon!”

She blinked, seeing her senior standing right in front of her desk, “Oh, Namjoon.”

“Have you got any paper?”

She might or might not have accidentally finished all the paper due to all her annoying hard work for the supervisor, only to be rejected again. “No, sorry.”

“You didn’t call me sunbae.”

“I think you should go find some papers.”

He rolled his eyes and walked away, unintentionally bumping into a fax machine and almost dropping it. Luckily, he caught it and saved his foot from being squashed.

Poor guy must’ve searched from second floor to fourth floor just for papers without trying to actually hurt his clumsy self.

Jiyoon snickered. She ignored the incident and thought to herself if she could go back to the coffee shop and squeal over the café couple, or maybe have a chat with Yoongi. Then again, Yoongi’s a jerky bastard. But for some reason, she liked to have a conversation with him.

So she decided, and she was now sitting at the same spot while sipping on her Caramel Macchiato. She had not seen Yoongi.

Well, yet. Why was she even looking for him?

She couldn’t see any couples either, but only a barista by the counter.

“Yah.”

That voice. That annoying, raspy and drunk voice. Speaking of drunken, “you sound like a drunken 30-year-old man.”

“A meek ‘Hello’ would be acknowledged.”

“Same goes to you.”

He face palmed, realizing he didn’t greet her properly too, “what brings you here?”

She couldn’t say that she was actually eager to talk to him. But for some reason, she felt that they have a special connection with each other.

Nah, she thought she was just crazy.

“I’m having coffee. I’m still not getting that Americano for you,” she gazed at him and found him scowling.

“I didn’t bring my money today.”

“Flirt your way with that barista and get a free drink.”

He frowned, “I’m straight.”

“Sure you are.”

“Want me to prove it?”

She looked at him, and shrugged, “Prove what? That you’re gay?”

“No, that I’m straight,” he took the chance to sit next to her and pulled her body closer to his own, cupping her cheeks and making their lips meet.

It didn’t feel weird that someone she just met was kissing her, but she thought that it felt right. She had a sense they’ve met before – no, not in person, but through something else - but maybe it was just her mind playing tricks.

And ing god, his lips tasted like strawberries.

He broke the kiss and gazed at her, “It was me.”

“What?”

“I’ve been sending you those flowers and letters,” she blinked and stared back at him, a part of her yelling, ‘I knew it!’ and another saying, ‘Really? He’s actually sweet.’ Another also asking, ‘This is the jerk I fell in love with?’

Mostly the third thought.

“You also look really cute in my gallery,” he showed his phone to her, displaying pictorials of her from different angles, “sorry for not asking permission.”

Jiyoon half glared at him, but he only snickered and brushed his lips against hers, “was I too obvious?”

Then and there, their lips met once more.